I've been home a few days now and am mostly unpacked with the exception of needlework supplies. A bit of organization and planning is required here, and I have been mostly tired, and attentive to my very clingy furry family.
The trip home was less relaxed than the trip out. This was partially because it was the end of a long trip and I much as I enjoy seeing new things and traveling, I am always happy to be home. It was also partly because I missed my Tikka and wanted to get home to see her, and Moisés, as well. It is possible that I must amend my original statement about road trips. Yes a solo road trip can be a joy, but my basic preference would still be for companionable travel, and there were times when I definitely missed that sense of discovery and good times in good company. Perhaps solo trips are best when they are shorter. Perhaps this is something I still need to figure out, and my feelings will evolve over time. I am not convinced however, that I will take another solo Texas road trip without my Tikka-Dikka-Do.
I did make one short detour on my way home, and enjoyable as it was, it perhaps contributed to my sense of melancholy, although I haven't actually sorted those feelings out yet. I went to Lake Catherine State Park, outside of Malvern, Arkansas, a place where my family went camping frequently when I was young. I enjoyed the brief diversion, and the park looks very much the way I remember it. It is a fairly small park, although I seem to remember thinking its was endless then. I can see that, see how running around from the area where my family usually camped, across the campgrounds and over to the picnic area with its big stone fireplace and back, allowed for much exploration and hours of imaginative play. I can see how it was and remains a perfect family-sized park.
Lake Catherine is a long, narrow lake, and as I walked and looked out at the lake I fondly remembered explorations and games, fishing solo and with my brothers, and the joys of being out on the lake. I also remembered being fascinated by the power plant across the lake from our camping spot, and I stopped to take a picture of it from my favorite small glade, a little nook very close to where we usually camped, a quiet spot where I would often curl up with a book or fleeting whips of imagination.
I had intended to hike at least one of the trails, but realized I didn't really have time. The shorter trail claimed it required 2 hours on the trail map, and given my propensity to stop and reflect, an inclination that is far more pronounced upon solo excursions, it was probably true. I really wanted to take the longer hike up to the ridge and back, but I obviously didn't have the time for either. Nor was I inclined toward a few hours of solo hiking, truth be told, although I probably would have gone on at least the shorter trail had I had Tikka with me. Admittedly, my back is not up for 4 hours of steep uneven terrain, so the longer trail would have been out of the question. Being at the trailhead reminded me that I do want to do more hiking however, and I had temporarily abandoned my plan to get myself hiking and biking. I set myself back by pushing too hard last fall, and again in the spring, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't move forward, perhaps just learn to temper my hard-headed German stubbornness.
